Pirate Girl part 3

“Me and Cody stayed awake until the end though.”  1

“I didn’t know he even liked that movie.”  Part of being a pirate means scoffing at any unlikely maneuvering of ships in pirate movies.  And in Pirates of the Caribbean, most of the maneuvering was unlikely to the point of defying the laws of physics.  2

“Oh no,” Sachiko smiles, “believe me, we didn’t watch the movie.”3

It’s at about this time that I decide not to talk to Sachiko for the next few minutes.  You would think that, she being my very close and very well clothed friend, she would somehow find a way not to make my emotional life more complicated.  I managed to hold back last night.  Think about it—if we hadn’t both been, you know, sleeping and everything, things could have gotten pretty steamy between Hong and myself.  But somehow despite all of Hong’s Armani-Exchange-wearing, cigarette-lighting, cool-cell-phone-wielding advances, I kept things platonic between the two of us.  And while we’re on the subject of platonic relationships, I’d just like to remind everyone that Sachiko did not fall for a hot Russian sailor with killer biceps and an amazing accent.  No, she fell for Cody.  Cody, the guy who likes to hang my thong underwear on top of the mainmast and ask me if I’ve noticed anything “missing.”  That Cody.  The guy who doesn’t know Dostoyevsky from Bulgakov but who can quote any book in the Goosebumps series.  That Cody.  The guy who, just as a reminder, I thought might have some sort of feelings for me less than forty-eight hours ago.  And I’m not jealous, I’m just saying he’s a bit fickle with his romantic interests.   And more than a bit immature.  4

The fickle, immature teenager himself stumbles out of Sachiko’s still-dark bedroom, reminding me somewhat of a bear coming out of winter hibernation.  Or perhaps a vampire emerging into the sunlight to be cooked crispy.  Except for Cody doesn’t burn in the sunlight, he just groans and stumbles into the bathroom.  I guess Sachiko gave him quite a workout.  Hong stirs at my feet but I don’t feel like playing hard-to-get with him anymore.  In fact, I don’t feel like playing anything anymore.  All I wanted was to visit Sachiko and get my shop on, not to fall for a breathtakingly handsome Asian and come by a load of emotional baggage fit for one of the more heart wrenching episodes of Oprah.  5

I see that my window of opportunity is fast closing, and quickly step over the groggily waking Hong to dart into Sachiko’s bedroom, locking the door behind me.  I grab a clean pair of Juicy Couture jeans and a pink Von Dutch t-shirt and start changing.  I can hear Hong and Sachiko whispering in Taiwanese.  I’m not sure why they’re whispering because I don’t speak Taiwanese, so they could be shouting for all I care and I still wouldn’t know what was going on.  I pull my hair back into a ponytail and survey the room before I leave.  It’s still a disaster from last night, but this is nothing compared to what I’ve seen happen after Sachiko comes back from a shopping spree.  The Vuitton purse she lent me is laying somewhere in the television room, not that she’d miss it even if I were to leave it somewhere by mistake.  She’s got at least twenty more.  In addition, my clothes and her clothes seem to have spent the night doing the same thing as Sachiko and Cody did together.  Not only can I barely even identify what’s mine anymore, but one of my dresses seems to have mated with her Hermes scarf collection, and in the same night must have given birth to a chiffon halter top, because I know I’ve never seen that one before.  I grab a pair of shoes that might or might not be mine and head out.  6

Sachiko is glad to say goodbye to the boys for a few hours and shop.  Heck, she’d be happy to say goodbye to the boys for a few years and shop if that were an option.  She gladly slips her black American Express card into a tiny purse with an equally downsized lip gloss and pulls on a Dolce & Gabanna ensemble that involves a teal vest with a complicated system of d-rings, buckles, cargo pockets, snaps, and zippers, and a pair of dark wash jeans.  She tucks the ends of the jeans into the tops of knee-high pink boots, although this is less an issue of fashion statement and more an issue of the pants being a good four inches too long for her.  Since her cell phone, despite the fact that it is almost too small to be practical, is nonetheless too big to fit in the aforementioned purse, Sachiko stores it in one of the many pockets on her vest after calling for a car for the two of us.  On the way down in the elevator, the phone makes an encore performance long enough for Sachiko to chat in Taiwanese with the receptionist of a very exclusive Taipei boutique.  So exclusive, in fact, as to be by-invitation-only.  Fortunately, Sachiko seems to have cultivated a long-term relationship with the owner, so the invitation that any other girl would die for is quick in coming.  7

In the car, I play with radio stations until I realize that I can’t tell what people are singing anyway and give up.  8

“So where are we going?”  9

“Omigosh, Reenah, you are going to love this place.  They have everything.  The guy who owns it, Chim, has this totally crazy organization system that nobody else understands, but he knows where every piece of clothing is.”10

“Really,” I tease sarcastically.  Sachiko knows about my inability to understand organization of any kind.  “I’ve never heard of that before.”11

“No really,” she persists, rolling her eyes at me at the same time, “He’s just so cool.  Anyway, Chim said he has all these cool fur coats in different colors and cuts, but that they’re all gorgeous.  12

“Why would you want a coat now?  It’s barely even summer.”  I try to ask, but she just keeps talking.13

“And he just got new purses from all over the place.  And new shoes.”  She adds the last part triumphantly.  Shoes?  My ears perk at this.  Kalam’s credit cards will get quite a workout indeed if this Chim guy is half a good shoe-seller as Sachiko believes.  I catch her grinning at me from across the seat.  She knows well my obsession with shoes.  I can totally see myself now, leaving the boutique weighed down by several pairs of designer shoes.  All of them will have tall pointy heels and all of them will be quite beautiful.  And Sachiko will be right behind me, toting several garment bags full of huge fur coats.  And then we will go to some chic downtown tea bar and café and order teeny sandwiches.  The twin prospects of shopping and cute food make me feel better about this whole adventure.  Which is good because we pull up in front of a rather nondescript office building just as I’ve reached this point in my train of thought.  Sachiko wastes no time after the driver has opened the door, but sprints to the door buzzer and chatters into it in Taiwanese for only a few moments.  The driver politely approaches her with a slip to sign—she charges her car rides to her mother’s account, which then gets written off as a business expense—and she scrawls something loopy and indecipherable with a bored attitude.  Meanwhile, the door clicks and a tiny woman dressed completely in black beckons the two of us in.  Sachiko follows her trustingly up a narrow and steep flight of stairs to another door, which she pushes open.  I follow the two of them in, not sure of just what to expect.14

It’s amazing.  Simply amazing.  Chim’s store is a fairytale wonderland of color and shape.  Pairs of shoes are hung from wires at directly eye level, or in Sachiko’s case, just above eye level.  There are hats stacked out on this totally mod piece of furniture next to us.  I don’t even know what to call it—it’s just a sort of long curvy white table except for it, too, hangs from the ceiling on nearly invisible wires.  In fact, so do all of the hanging bars that are practically dripping with creations of chiffon and hand beading.  Along a back wall are the furs that Sachiko mentioned, hung on hangers that dangle from loops of more wire.  Either Chim has hired a genius to decorate, or he’s got a serious toe-stubbing phobia.  I spot some rather Andy Warhol-ish sculptures set out in the center of the store, which are made of orange and white Formica.  And sitting rather languidly on one of them is an incredibly skinny middle-aged Oriental man.  Were he made of orange or white Formica, he would match the rest of the décor and could totally pass as part of the architecture.  Except for he’s dressed like his receptionist, in all black, and he proceeds to get up and kiss Sachiko and then me on both cheeks, which is pretty bold for a country where people usually just bow to each other or whatever.  When he does speak, it is in perfect English but for an affected lisp.15

“Oh welcome my lovely ladiesss, welcome.  I’m ssso happy that you have brought your American friend with you Sssachiko, really I am.  I’ve got all kindsss of new dressesssss for you to look at!”16

“Chim, this is my friend Reenah.  She likes stuff with lots of beads and chiffon and ruching and ribbons on it.  Money is no object.  Oh, and she loves shoes.”17

With a wink in my direction, Sachiko sets Chim and his shoe fetish (which, I gather, rivals my own,) on me and goes to peruse her fur coat choices.  Within about forty seconds, I’m perched delicately on one curved edge of the molded plastic Warhol furniture and Chim is walking around plucking pairs of shoes from their wires and parading them in front of me.  Everything stays pretty calm because it’s just the three of us.  That is, until Chim presents me with a pair of brand-new silver satin peep-toe Gucci heels with tiny pintucks on the sides and velvet bows and delicate ankle straps.  They are perfect, and I must have them in my size; I tell Chim as much.  He claps his hands enthusiastically and continues talking to me as he walks through a door disguised as a full-length mirror to find the shoes in a size 10.  18

“I knew asss sssoon assss you walked in that you would absssolutely love, love, love thessse shoesss.  They are absssolutely brilliant!  Brilliant!”19

I try to stay calm to keep from making a fool of myself, I really do.  When I travel to other countries I consider myself to be something of an ambassador; I try to set a good example and prove that Americans are not all the lazy fat people we’re rumored to be.  But I can’t help myself.  When Chim comes out with the shoes in my size, and this gorgeous creation of white and gray chiffon with silver beading, I totally mirror his and Sachiko’s moods.  20

“They’re perfect! I must have them, I must!  The shoes and the dress!”21

Chim laughs at me, a funny sort of twittering laugh, and Sachiko does this eye-roll thing that she does really well.  She’s now wearing a white fur coat that touches the floor behind her, and has the hood pulled over her head.  I have to say, despite all impracticalities regarding the coat, it does look quite nice on her.  And maybe if she has the coat she’ll stop whining about that stupid camel.  Really.  22